Saint

12

My perfect attendance is getting shot to hell, and it’s all Laurel’s damn fault.

When I reported for my first day of detention this morning after breakfast, I knew it was going to be hell, and I wasn’t wrong. People lingered in the dining hall specifically to mock me. Whatever reverence they might have felt toward me when they thought I was sleeping with Saint vanished the moment word got out the rumors weren’t true. I’m back to being reviled, and after what I did to Laurel, the target on my back only got bigger.

She was in the dining hall, waiting for me. Ready to make me miserable and torment me. She and her friends had spread out over three tables and destroyed the areas around them. Overturned coffee cups, syrup covering chairs, food littering the floor—each table looked like an army of toddlers had gone to town on it. I did take some comfort in the fact that Laurel looks like absolute shit. Her nose is hidden behind a plastic cast, and the dark bruises under her eyes made her look like a racoon. As haughty as she’d been as I was forced to my knees to clean up her mess, she looked pathetic.

By the time I was finally done cleaning, it was well past my hour for detention and I was covered in filth. Rushing back to my dorm, I’d had to shower and change as fast as possible, but it was no use in the end. I couldn’t make up the lost time.

My lungs burn with my effort to make it to English class on time, even as my brain works to make peace with the fact that I won’t.

My classroom is just around the corner, and as I go careening around it, I barely avoid ru

“Thank…” I trail off as I realize it’s Liam standing next to me. I don’t know anyone else with a tattooed wrist, and I creep my gaze up his navy blazer until my blue eyes lock with his deep brown irises. He frowns down at me, his dark brow wrinkling as he quickly releases my arm.

“Watch where you’re going,” he growls, tugging his blazer sleeve back down to cover the ink.

“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling awkward and unsure of myself. This is the first we’ve spoken since the night of the beach party. I’d never even thanked him for saving me.

He’s already resumed walking toward class, so I hurry to catch up. I want to ask him why he’s late too, but I don’t dare. It’s clear he’s not interested in rekindling our lukewarm relationship, and I don’t want to push him and make him dislike me anymore than he clearly does. When we both wander into class, well after the bell has rung, all eyes turn to stare at us.

Including our teacher, Miss Stewart. She doesn’t look pleased as she folds her arms over her chest and taps a finger impatiently against her elbow.

“Thank you for joining us, Ellis, Halloway. You made it just in time to be assigned as each other’s partner.”

“What?” we both blurt out in unison. I glance toward Liam, and his eyes are wide.

Miss Stewart gives a slow nod and stares at us like we’re idiots. “You’ll be writing a collaborative paper and presenting on the works of Charles Dickens. I suggest you quickly make arrangements to meet up after school and take your seats.”

This day just gets better and better.

We drag our feet to the back of the class, but before we part ways to find our seats, Liam pauses.

“You free tonight?” he grumbles, successfully avoiding direct eye contact, as if looking at me might infect him.

I nod but of course he doesn’t see it. “Yeah.”

“Meet in the library at seven?”

“Yeah. All right.”

It’s clear those few words are more than he wanted to have to say to me. Without sparing me another glance, he gives me his back and goes to his seat. I watch him get settled for several seconds before releasing a sigh of frustration and disappointment, and then make my way to my desk as well.

I make it a point not to be late to our meetup. Thankfully, Laurel and her crew got into big trouble for trashing part of the dining hall this morning, so the mess I clean up after di

When I arrive at the library, there aren’t many people around, which isn’t surprising for a Thursday night. A lot of Angelview’s students start their weekends a day early and show up to their Friday classes hung over, if they show up at all. It shouldn’t be hard to find him.

I wander around for a little while, but Mr. Tattooed, Dark, and Brooding is nowhere to be found.

“You better not stick me with all the work, dick,” I grumble under my breath. I come to the end of a row of bookshelves and turn around the end to head down the next aisle, but I freeze in my tracks at the scene I stumble upon.

Jon Eric and Fi

“You’re a pretty little bitch, aren’t you?” Jon Eric sneers. It’s his hand around the kid’s throat, and I see his big fingers flex as he squeezes. “Too pretty to be a guy. If we checked, would we find a cock between your legs, or a pussy?”

“My bet’s on pussy,” Fi

“Our favorite game is fucking up little shits like you,” Jon Eric declares. “You don’t get to be on our team without paying the admission fee. Isn’t that right, Fi

“That’s right.” Fi

A thought enters my head that feels like a revelation. I remember what Loni told me about Nick, and how in addition to being beaten, he was … violated. Everyone assumes it was Saint and his friends, but I can’t see them doing that to someone. They’re assholes, but I don’t think they’re monsters. Not like this, anyway.

It wasn’t them that hurt Nick.

It wasn’t Saint.

It was these sick fucks.

My feet begin moving before I fully comprehend what’s going on, and my mouth drops open to a

“Hey!” I bark, charging down the aisle. “Leave him alone!”

I’ve startled them enough that Jon Eric releases the kid’s throat. He doesn’t waste any time as soon as he’s free. Turning, the freshman takes off down the aisle, disappearing from sight. I can’t blame him, even if he did just leave me alone with these animals.

It seems to be a common theme around here.

Jon Eric and Fi

“Yeah, well, can’t say I’m fucking sorry,” I growl, coming to a stop. The kid is safe and away, and it’s my turn to do the same. I begin backpedaling, intent on making a hasty exit, but Fi